#creepy phantom

[phantomtwitch]

Electric Core/No One Knows AU

I meant to post this for some event, but never got around to it. Since AO3 is functionally down at the moment, I figured I'd share it in case folks are looking for something to read. It's kind of similar to 'As the Ice Begins to Crack' in terms of vibes (or at least that's what I was aiming for - I want to write more AUs in that vein, and I might expand more on this at some point).

Enjoy!

Tucker knows it’s coming as soon as the air shifts. 

The differences are subtle at first. A faint whiff of ozone, a slight chill to the air as the wind picks up and sweeps the fall leaves into spirals over the ground, and then the hairs on his arms stand on end. Then comes the low-pitched hum, the hiss that sounds like electricity running through high-voltage cables, peppered with the occasional burst of static and awful whining as the air grows heavy and thick, the sky darkening even when moments ago the sun shone brightly above them.

Sam freezes next to him, her fingers clutching her milkshake tightly as her eyes dart from side to side, looking for somewhere to hide until they land on an abandoned house nearby. “Come on,” she insists, tugging at his hand.

“Sam, there’s no way that place is safe, it’s been condemned for years–”

“--and being out here with Phantom is?” she interrupts, and Tucker scowls, knowing that she’s right, but moving from one dangerous spot to another isn’t ideal. There’s nowhere else close enough to go, though, or at least not anywhere they won’t risk getting struck once the lightning starts, and he follows her with a groan and an eye roll. They’re on the porch when the first lightning bolt strikes the pavement nearby, making it explode and sending shrapnel flying that barely misses him and Sam, and thunder roars, painfully loud and close. He slaps his hands over his ears, trying to block out what noise he can, but his ears are still ringing when it stops.

Sam forces one of the windows open and climbs through, with Tucker following shortly after. The house is empty and covered in heavy dust that makes Tucker sneeze as they disturb it, the air almost as oppressive inside as it was out, and in the corner he can see signs of something rotting that he doesn’t dare approach. 

The two of them stand at the window even though they both know better. When a ghost that is more an embodiment of the storm than the kind of vague, intangible figure haunting ghost stories becomes a common fixture in town, endless safety lectures and drills become the norm. Knowing what to do in the event of a thunderstorm is the closest the teachers can get to explaining the safety precautions that are necessary when Phantom is about. 

He’s only actually seen Phantom once before, when Sam begged him and Danny to go on a ghost hunting trip back in freshman year on Halloween. Tucker wasn’t terribly interested in ghosts, but he was too old for trick-or-treating and not popular enough to score an invite to any parties, so he agreed. Danny did, too, but bailed at the last minute, claiming he felt too tired and sick to go with them. 

Tucker tries not to think about Danny too much. The three of them haven’t spoken in close to six months, at least, drifting further and further apart despite his and Sam’s best efforts to stay friends their first two years of high school together. Most days he’s barely in class anymore, and when he is Danny is constantly tucked away in a corner, curling in tightly on himself, careful to avoid getting too close to anyone. Dark circles constantly ring his eyes, his expression hollow and skin too pale. Sam asked Jazz once before she went off to college if Danny was seriously ill and she denied it, even as it was clear something about him had changed since high school started.

“Do you ever talk to Danny anymore?” he asks suddenly, and the shift in conversation as they peer out the window and wait for the elusive Phantom to make his appearance catches Sam off guard.

“No. Does anyone?” she says, her tone resigned as another loud peal of thunder echoes around them, and Tucker swears he sees the house shaking. They argued a few times about what to do and what else to try, never figuring out a way to reach him. 

“I guess not.” He turns back to look outside, rubbing his arms as a figure blinks into existence on the road. The features are hard to make out, as always, because of the bright green lightning that flickers across his form, making it nearly impossible to stare at Phantom for too long. His hair looks wispy and white, his eyes swirling pools of green amidst a heavily shadowed face, and his form is hazy and more like smoke or dark clouds in the vague shape of a person, yet there’s an odd solidity in the way that he moves at times, as if by far heavier and present than he ought to be in this inhuman state. 

The words that come out when Phantom speaks next aren’t any language humans can hope to imitate, but it’s clearly a form of communication, the ear piercing whine and buzzing reminding Tucker of standing beneath high-voltage wires even as it rises and lowers in pitch and the rhythms shift. There’s an echo to the words, a way it loops through the air as if constantly caught inside a tunnel no matter where Phantom appears, and his voice gets under Tucker’s skin, prickling like static beneath the surface and making him rub his arms more fiercely than before.

Another ghost roars back, his voice full of snarling and hissing, the sounds animalistic even as there’s a mechanical clicking that accompanies it, and Tucker recognizes it and winces as he spots the strange robotic ghost flying in mid-air, green flames cascading down his skull and back, completely unhampered by the rain that is now beginning to steadily fall. The Fentons call him Skulker. The hunter ghost is infamous, stalking his ‘prey’ throughout Amity Park, although what particular creature ends up being his prey in any given week is often impossible to know until it’s too late. Mostly what he hunts are other animals and ghosts, and for whatever reason, Phantom has long been one of his favored targets.

But the ghost stands little to no chance against Phantom.

“Maybe we should get away from the window,” suggests Tucker uneasily as a green blast extends from Phantom’s palm, swirling with crackling green lightning as it lashes out at Skulker, and sparking arcs of electricity dart from it, sparking against a stop sign and dancing across the pavement towards their hiding place. Though no one has ever seen Phantom directly attack a human before, his powers are wild and dangerous, the lightning barely controlled.

And Tucker’s all too aware that just because no one has ever witnessed Phantom attacking someone before doesn’t mean he wouldn’t do it.

“No, I want to watch,” whispers Sam stubbornly as she peers through the window, but her knuckles are white as she grips the window frame. Tucker barely suppresses a sigh as he remains firmly in place. The things he does for his best friend.

His only friend, a quiet voice whispers, but he ignores it. 

The fight is brutal, the ghosts barely visible as they attack each other, but the evidence of their fight is everywhere as green fire spirals, intertwining with the lightning amidst the rain. “It’s kind of beautiful, isn’t it?” says Sam, the lights and shadows dancing in front of them, and he nods despite himself. It’s terrifying, inhuman. The Fentons’ say that ghosts are nothing more than imprints, echoes of post-human consciousness, but as he watches them fight Tucker realizes he’s never truly understood exactly what that means, if they’re spirits or souls or just the fading echoes given some unnatural life at the very moment of someone’s death. 

“How do you think Phantom died?” he asks as Skulker slams into the pavement, the machinery smoking and his flames dwindling as the rain comes down harder, and Sam doesn’t answer, likely unable to hear him over the downpour and crackle of thunder. They watch as Phantom looms over Skulker, his indistinct form more monstrous than ever, and then he slams a fist into the machinery, his fingers sharp, black claws that spark as they dig through the metal frame and pull out a shimmering, shifting ghost, so tiny compared to the hulking frame encapsulating it. 

The rain begins to slow and Tucker wonders for a moment what Phantom will do, if he will destroy the squirming helpless thing in his hands, but then there’s a soft whisper, the sounds that come from Phantom no longer sending chills down his spine but inviting comfort instead, of an odd sort of warmth and gentleness. The ghost–is it Skulker? Tucker isn’t sure–responds in a mewling, annoyed tone, but stops fighting back as Phantom pulls an odd soup like container from . . . Tucker isn’t sure, actually, just where Phantom pulls it from, but he flicks the cap open with practiced ease and sucks the small ghost inside. 

“Isn’t that one of the Fentons’ inventions?” wonders Sam, and Tucker jolts as he realizes she’s right. He remembers seeing it once in one of the assemblies, but the device has rarely appeared in their arsenal since they created the portal guns to send the ghost back to their own dimension instead. “Think he stole it from them?”

“With the level of security they have around that place? Doubt it,” says Tucker. Though it’s been ages since he was last at the Fentons, their ghost security was aggressive enough that it would target sufficiently ecto contaminated humans by mistake, let alone a incredibly powerful ghost like Phantom. Tucker doubts they’ve downgraded their security since then, especially since the number of ghost attacks are only increasing. “Maybe he found it in the trash.”

“Maybe,” she hums, sounding doubtful, and it’s at that moment that the electric green eyes snap towards them, focusing intently, and although it’s too late both Sam and Tucker duck in a futile effort to hide. 

“Shit,” hisses Tucker, and Sam shushes him, putting a finger to her lips, but it’s too late as the air in front of them crackles and flickers as a bolt of electricity impossibly strikes the floor in front of them, Phantom appearing within it, his arms wrapped around the thermos. He and Sam flinch as they curl in towards each other, Sam’s hand grasping his own tightly now as the two of them tremble, and he can barely stand to look at Phantom, the electricity arcing along his body too bright. 

A hiss of static erupts, the same odd ghost speech as always, but this time Tucker understands it, hearing words within the noise even though that shouldn’t be possible. “You shouldn’t stay here,” says Phantom, the sparks around him diminishing, although now that Tucker can make out his features more clearly it’s almost worse as he opens his mouth to speak, sharp white fangs sparkling within. 

“Well where else were we supposed to go with you out there fighting?” grumbles Sam, and Tucker stares at her in horror, unable to believe she would dare to speak to any ghost, let alone Phantom, that way. But the ghost lets out an odd sound, of echoing loops and trills and whirring, and it takes Tucker a second to realize he’s laughing. 

“Fair. But this place is haunted,” he replies with a grin, “and the ghost that lives here doesn’t take kindly to intruders.”

“That’s–um–fine,” stutters Tucker, squeezing Sam’s hand tightly before she can utter another word as he forces himself to his feet. “We’ll, um, get going. And, um, thanks.”

The sparks stop running along his body, freezing at midpoints in a way that completely unnerves Tucker, as if the ghost is frozen in a photo instead of standing in front of them. “Thanks?” he repeats.

“For stopping the ghost?” he squeaks out. “And warning us about the, um, other ghost haunting this place?” His voice is so high that Tucker thinks he could sing soprano right now if Phantom asked. 

Phantom continues to stare at him, saying nothing and remaining so still Tucker would swear he’s a statue, and eventually Tucker swallows as he grabs Sam’s hand and tries to pull her through the window, but she refuses to budge. “Sam,” he hisses, tugging again. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Not yet,” she insists. “Phantom . . . Are you . . . do you have a place to go?”

“I’m not a lost puppy,” he says, the unnatural stillness rolling off him with a wave of sparks. “And I can’t be near humans for long anyway. It’s hard to control the electricity, and dying from electrocution is a terrible way to go.” There’s a noise behind the words, an echo of long, awful scream that makes Tucker shiver and instinctively realize then that Phantom is speaking from experience, and for the first time it occurs to him that the noises that comprise each ghost’s individual speech aren’t half as random as he believed. 

It’s the sound of their death, echoing for eternity, never letting them or anyone else forget. “Is that . . .” asks Sam, wanting to confirm it.

“Yes,” he says simply, and then there’s the sound of something breaking upstairs, a window smashing and shattering, and static prickles against Tucker’s skin. “You should go.”

“Right. And, um, bye, I guess?” says Tucker awkwardly, and finally Sam follows him out the window and back out onto the street. Despite the sounds upstairs, there’s no broken glass outside beneath any of the windows above them, and as he glances back he can see Phantom’s eyes watching, considering them carefully, before another bolt strikes and he vanishes in a clap of thunder, leaving Sam and Tucker alone once more. 

#danny phantom #dp fanfiction #electric core au #creepy Phantom #I do not know why I always do creepy Danny fics as a Tucker POV #but here we are again #¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #my writing #look i just really like Tucker

[alchemist-of-altoids]

I had to write something for my lit class. figured I'd post it here, because I like it and maybe y'all will too

Tucker was terrified. He came over to Sam’s place for her birthday, since they were each other’s only friends. Her parents were attending some gala for rich people or whatever. As soon as they left that evening, Sam revealed that she had found something. An old book. A very old book. It supposedly was about ghosts and such. Now, Tucker was a man of science. He didn’t believe in ghosts or demons or anything that couldn’t be proven with facts. But as far as he could tell, bad juju had been proven time and time again. You mess with stuff you shouldn’t, and it bites you in the backside. So he didn’t want to be anywhere near this. But he also couldn’t leave Sam to do this by herself. He also couldn’t drive and his parents were probably asleep. So he would just have to stick it through. Plus, he couldn’t help but be curious. Not about the supernatural, but the nerd in him LOVED the idea of them reading a book so old not even Google had ever heard of it (he’d checked). So he helped her move her carpet so they could draw the chalk pentagram or pentacle or whatever it was called. He helped her set up the candles. He even helped her with her pronunciation, even if it wasn't in any language they’d ever seen.

Sam was ECSTATIC. She had found a ritual to summon the Ghost King. Sure, she hadn’t known there was a ghost king until she found the book, but still. She was a hardcore goth, how could anyone expect her to pass up this opportunity? So she was trying to find the perfect time and place to make Tucker help her with this. Then, a week before her birthday, she got the best news of her life. Some rich guy her parents knew from doing rich old people things decided to throw a last minute gala and they just couldn’t resist those things. Thank you Vlad Masters. Her parents would usually make her go, but they had already paid the party planner and for her entire party. So it would just be her, Tucker, and the book. Meemaw too, but she was by far the coolest Manson other than Sam. When the day finally arrived, she waited patiently. Her parents were heading to their private airport to take the jet to Wisconsin. Normally, they would have left already, but they wanted to spend as much time with her today as possible. When they finally left, she showed Tucker the book. He looked skeptical, as she expected, but also curious, which she had also expected. So they set everything up, and practiced saying the words. She wasn’t sure what the language was, but she had Rosetta Stone-d it. She had spent the past month or so finding little hints as to the alphabet and pronunciation of words. After a while, they felt like they had a solid grasp on the chant. The only things left to do were lighting the candles and actually doing the summoning.

Sam and Tucker were finishing the chant. It was almost time. They finished the last word in unison, and stared at the circle. And as they watched… Nothing happened. Sam didn’t bother hiding her disappointment. Tucker was also disappointed, to his own surprise. Sam drops face first onto her bed, tossing the book away as she does so, and Tucker falls onto a bean bag a few feet away. Tucker is about to try and cheer up Sam, when the circle starts glowing. White for a split second, then green. Bright, neon, toxic green. Tucker throws a plushy at Sam, because he can’t seem to speak. She sits up, and sees it. The inner lines of the pentagram are disappearing, as they all merge into a singular spot. A green, glowing, swirling portal. They watch, their faces showing dozens of emotions at a time, as a figure is shot through the portal. The portal shuts and leaves the figure trapped within the confines of the circle they had drawn. It starts flying around, its dark, misty, transparent body bouncing around as though there were invisible walls surrounding it. As it starts calming down, they get a better look at it. It’s mostly pitch black, but it’s highlighted by blinding white hands and what they can only imagine is hair, although it looks nothing like hair. It doesn’t have any feet, it’s torso just turns into a wispy tail-like thing. Its hands are claws that look sharp enough to puncture steel. But all that seems downright natural and friendly compared to its face. Its mouth is just a jagged line, where its skin becomes a series of points. When it’s open, the inside seems to just be a glowing green void. Its eyes are the same way. Pure, toxic green, casting a glow wherever it looks. Its ears are long and pointed, and its hair occasionally passes through them. It points a long, clawed finger at the book Sam threw on the floor. It opens its mouth to speak, and the noise that comes and the most unnatural, terrifying, eldritch excuse for a voice. But it is speaking in English, so they understand its words perfectly. “How did you get my library book?”

#danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #ghost king #ghost king danny #creepy danny #creepy phantom #danny phantom au #dp #dp au #horror

[deadsetobsessions]

“Tim. Timmy. Ancients, kid, what are you doing?!”

Danny Phantom smacked away the instinctual terror of seeing an eight year old dangling out of a third story window.

“I gotta go take pictures of Batman and Robin! They’re out tonight!”

Danny thought that his barely healed vivisection wound might bust open from the sheer stress.

“Setting aside how you even know the patrol schedule of honest to god vigilantes, why’d you choose the window? The house is literally empty, just walk out the front door, for Ancient’s sake.”

Tim paused, a motion Danny was overwhelmingly thankful for, and blinked sheepishly.

“Um… for the aesthetic?”

Danny allowed the silence to settle between them before dropping his head into his waiting hands. Tim panicked.

“You- you can’t stop me!”

And yeah, Danny really can’t. In the months he’s been mooching off of the Drakes (not that they’ll notice), Danny’s learned that Tim Drake is nothing but relentless in the pursuit of whatever he sets his mind on. Whether thet might be putting hot chocolate in his cereal (which Danny doesn’t actually mind) or, apparently, stalking a pair of vigilantes.

He wanted to hack into the library cameras? Danny had to hover just to make sure the kid didn’t get caught after arguing for an hour about it.

He walked out of that argument with a loss, yes, but he also let Tim know that Danny cared about him. Danny also walked out of that argument with a new hatred for Janet and Jack Drake and his mind (just as diabolical as Tim’s) whirring with plans to haunt them.

Tim is never ever introducing his new little brother to Tucker. Ever.

“Okay. I don’t want to see you take unnecessary risks, but I’m also aware that I can’t really stop you. So. I’ll go with you.”

Maybe this is like… Tim’s obsession? When he put it that way, Danny lost the fight to prevent this tiny kid from what clearly is the only joy in his poor life.

“But…!” Tim’s eyes darted to Danny’s chest, the vivisection scars still fresh in his mind.

“They’re healed.” Danny pulled his dumbass little brother off the window sill, core settling as Tim follows willingly. “I’ll make us invisible and fly with you behind Batman and Robin so you can get even better shots. You can’t make any noise, though. That camera got a shutter sound, right?”

“Yeah!” Tim’s face brightened and Danny melted. He shoved a bottle of the (incredibly stinky but helpful in a pinch) ecto contaminated tap water into a backpack, along with some snacks and a blanket for when Tim gets cold. Danny’ll be fine, he’s got a Space Core. The cold his kind of his thing.

“Cool. We’ll stay out of earshot. If things starts to get too dicey, we’re heading home, okay?”

“Okay!” The look Tim shot him is full of trust and adoration and it makes Danny’s human heart squeeze painfully. “C’mon! I don’t want to be late!”

“We need to talk about your stalking tendencies later,” Danny said fondly.

“I’m not stalking them! I’m observing them!”

“Uh-huh,” Danny drawled, picking Tim up and making them intangible and invisible. “They’re not a bird observatory and also, even the birds in the observatory knows they’re being watched. Batman and Robin clearly doesn’t.”

Danny felt more than saw Tim’s pout.

He laughs as they fly just below the Gotham-brand of toxic smog. He waves to the City’s Spirit as Tim cranes his head around to catch sight of Batman and Robin.

“There!”

Danny obliged. With Danny’s flight, Tim got much better- much closer- photos than he would have originally.

Danny hung back as the pair of vigilantes swooped down to take care of a mugging.

“Wanna mess with them?” He grinned down at his little brother, canines glinting.

Tim looked up at him, admiration and mischievousness in his gaze. “Yes.”

Gotham parted her clouds in response to their glee.

——

Dick Grayson, AKA Robin, finally understood why criminals are so creeped out by him.

Other than the whole flippy child kicking grown people’s asses and winning thing, obviously (that, and Batman loomed menacingly behind him everytime a criminal even looked at Robin wrong).

Batman had picked up on it first, but the for entirety of their patrol, they kept hearing eerie little giggles and laughter. Haunting them. Never distracting. But persistent. And so creepy. He got goosebumps.

“B, I wanna go home.”

“Hm.” That’s a resounding yes if Dick’s ever heard one.

Maybe Alfred can chase away the giggles and chuckles.

Robin shudders and follows the Bat home.

——

Danny lowered the temperature as he held Tim up near Batman’s cowl so his brother could giggle menacingly. He knew for a fact that any recording device would get completely cram led by the sheer output of ambient ectoplasm he’s emitting. Plus, it freaked Robin out and raised the hairs on the back of the vigilantes’ heads. He tones it down when he noticed Tim rubbing his hands together.

He let out a quiet laugh, enjoying the flight with his brother in his arm and the light of the stars (thanks, Gotham) at his back.

——

Danny: oh, this kid’s got an Obsession, gotta let him do it safely, he’s a liminal from all that tap water

Danny: *forgets Tim isn’t a ghost nor is he from Amity and is therefore extremely breakable*

——

Danny and Tim: doing crime is a good bonding activity

Batman and Robin, who wants to say no it isn’t but they’re literally a pair of illegal vigilantes:

——

Dick as Robin: *cackles*

Tim, learning habits from stalking them: *giggles*

Gotham Criminals: *fear*

#danny phantom #bamf danny phantom #dick grayson #tim drake is a menace #tim drake #baby tim drake #Tim Drake is a little shit #Danny Phantom is a little shit #they’re messing with the bats #and getting away with it #inspired by dick’s iconic Robin cackle #that creepy lil shit #i love them your honor #they’re brothers your honor #Gotham’s F grade tap water #thanks scarecrow #Gotham’s tap water #dc x dp #dp x dc

[rosydraws1]

If I was in phantom of the oprea is there

phantom:come to me my angel music

christine: yes idk you but yes

me: AH christine-hold on i need to breath ok anyway don't TRUST HIM.

Phantom: don't listen to them!

me: hey chrissy listen to me this guy is gonna try and kill your best friend!

christine:wut

me: hello 911

phantom: oh chandaler

FBI: FBI OPEN UP

the end

#creepy phantom

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Amity Park

In the Fenton's house it was normal for the food to look weird, it even came back to life and attacked you.

Danny was raised with this and while knowing that others did not have the same problem as having to fight your food regularly, it was still in a way normal.

Having said that it never occurred to him that ingesting such ecto-contaminated food would cause several problems and heavy harm to normal people.

His tolerance went up after his half death, but it wasn't a new development. Jazz ate the same food he did so did his parents and they were fine, healthy even.

Others living in Amity were also resistant to the ecto-contamination.

After all opening a rift into another plane of existence and continuing to let it be open and in use had its consequences. Each moment more and more ecto was absorbed by the town, into the land, the air, into the very people living, growing there,and quickly their bodies evolving along with their environment.

The same could not be said about outsiders.

Anyone who stopped in Amity would grow ill, many having to be hospitalized in the near future after leaving the town.

This continued until the towns nearby started avoiding Amity Park entirely and telling travelers to do the same.

Of course many travelers would take it a bet or were simply just too curious.

Many could not even pass the border to enter Amity park without feeling horribly wrong.

Amity Park soon became isolated to the outside world without even realizing it. Now the only time you saw them where if they themselves decided to leave the town for whatever reason.

Even then people began being able to tell who was from Amity because they just felt wrong like they weren't normal. Some people were so sensitive to their presence that they would become sick just by being near the person.

It was like the Uncanny Effect but different, so much worse.

Rumors started to spread after a long time and soon enough it caught the attention of a hero who shared it with others until it reached the attention of the Justice League.

~

John Constantine taking one glance at Amity: Fuck no! You could never pay me enough to go near that!

Danny casually eating a Nasty Burger after a fight: Damn, I know I look beat up but you don't have to be so rude about it!

~

Just an Idea

#dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #danny fenton #batman #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp prompt #dp x dc prompt #writing prompt #justice league #john constantine #amity park #liminal amity park #Creepy Amity Park #and it's people

[jaybirbie]

DP x DC prompt

After Alfred suffers a heart attack, he FINALLY accepts some help. After all, someone has to be managing his charges. They'd all work to death otherwise.

Good thing Alfred knows just who to call...

Bruce is stressing, not only did Alfred have a heart attack, but the butler had called......him.

Cousin Danny.

Not that Bruce had anything against the young man, he was just......oddly horrifying.

Summed up- Creepy Cousin Danny, Alfred's werid nephew, is helping care for the Batfamily.

#dpxdc #dc x dp #danny phantom #dp x dc prompt #creepy danny #alfred pennyworth #cousin danny #batfamily

[xx-sketchy-xx]

He’s latched onto my souls (yes plural lol)

#danny phantom art #creepy #horror #disturbing #danny phantom #danny fenton #ghost king danny #dani phantom #jazz fenton #I LOVE HIMMMM #EEEEE #Having Danny fantasies

[ikiprian]

I think Danny should get to be in more situations where he can’t use his ghost powers. I also think that suppressing this half of him ought to make more ghostly features appear on his human-self. Longer teeth, difficulty recording him on camera, tapetum lucidum and silent footsteps. He doesn't blink enough. He doesn't always breathe. If you sit too long in a room with him, you'll get a ringing in your ear.

Danny’s still a good kid! Kind and helpful and funny, there's just something about him that’s just a little too far to the left.

#he's sweet! he's just also So Unnerving like he can't help but be creepy #danny phantom #kipthought #PLEASE i love when a character is powerful but has to fake normalcy and then fucking FAILS i LOVE IT #dpxdc #dcxdp #danny fenton

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny finds out hes a clone/ adopted, and instead of processing that like a normal person he decides, "Well its not like they can find me so imma mess with my bio parent(s) while venting my frustrations. Two birds with one stone."

Hence (hero or villian of your choice) begins receiving letters via untraceable magic of him telling them he's thier clone/son and just telling them about his day/past adventures.

Unfortunately most of his adventures are horrifying and the person is desperately scrambling to find thier dumb (possibly undead) child and rescue them.

It probably doesn't help that Danny only signs his name as Phantom and is careful not to give clues to his location.

#dp x dc #fanfiction prompts #danny phantom #danny fenton #prompts #dc #danny phantom x dc #dc x dp au #this should be fun #danny casually writing about skulker wanting to skin him alive and mount him on the wall like a deer head #and about his creepy godfather who has a secret torture dungeon to *break him* if he were to ever get custody #imagine a rogue tearfully coming to batman #doesnt even need to be a gotham baddie

[mizartz]

guarding the flock

(please consider: ghost king danny but the crown is a wolf collar)

#danny phantom #pixel art #danny fenton #ghost king danny #animation #this idea got so far away from me lmao #i had intended for some ~deeper meaning~ but uhhhhhhhhh i forgot about portraying it around the 4th sheep #oh well. enjoy danny chilling with his new sheep friends #also look up photos of sheep herds at night theyre so creepy

[theghostkingisdead]

when he's really tired, danny sometimes slips up and starts talking in ghost speak. the only ones who can understand him when he gets like this are tucker, sam, and jazz (because they're Liminal). of course, none of them realize this until danny slips up in public

Tucker hated English. The whole language was a confusing, contradictory mess. Honestly, the world would be a much better place if everyone just stopped talking and writing and only communicated using Timerio, preferably with several screens between them.

The blank word document stared back at him, mockingly. The sounds of his classmates typing away at their own projects – typing, normally his favorite sound in the world, how dare the project turn it against him! – filled the room. The clock in the corner of his screen told him they had twenty more minutes left in class; twenty more minutes until lunch, where he could at least enlist Sam’s help.

He wished she shared this period with him and Danny, but she was taking AP Lit this year. Tucker glanced over at his other best friend. His best friend, who was staring off into space, not even bothering to pretend to be focusing on the assignment.

Glancing up to make sure Mr. Lancer wasn’t looking, he risked asking, “Hey Danny, what are the odds of a ghost attack happening in the next thirty-five seconds or so?”

Danny barely moved, but Tucker watched him squint, like he was trying to read something far off and blurry.

“Pretty unlikely. Unless we’re still counting blob ghosts as threats.”

Somewhere in the background, the sound of typing stopped.

Tucker hummed, “yeah, that’s about what I figured.” That was ghosts for you, never there when you needed them, never gone when you didn’t. “What if you, ya know,” Tucker raised his eyebrows repeatedly, staring intently at his best friend.

“no.”

“Aw, come on!”

Danny rolled his eyes, leaning back into his chair. “Dude, if I attacked the school just to get out of the last quarter of English, I’d never hear the end of it from Sam and Jazz.”

Tucker opened his mouth, about to present the very reasonable argument that what Sam and Jazz didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, when he felt someone tap his shoulder. Turning around in his seat, he met the wide, terrified eyes of Star. She was glancing between Tucker and Danny, face pale.

“Um, I don’t mean to be rude, but uh…” Her voice trailed off, and in the pause Tucker was suddenly aware of how quiet the room had become.

Glancing around, he saw that everyone – including Lancer – was staring at him and Danny with varying levels of confusion and fear. Tucker considered himself to be pretty smart in most areas, maybe even a genius when it came to tech. But it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he’d missed something important.

Danny, the absolute dick, had slumped forward onto his desk. He was out cold. Dead to the world, and definitely not available for backup.

Kwan cleared his throat, and Tucker saw that his face was ashen.

“What are you two fucking talking about?”

#danny phantom #danny fenton #tucker foley #dp headcanons #liminal tucker foley #dp writing prompt #cryptid danny fenton #creepy danny fenton #i justt love dp fics where danny gets to freak people out as fenton

[bhaalspawnn]

i love the idea of danny being just kind of unsettling after the portal accident

like slowly people realize somethings a little off about him. his eyes are too vibrant, shadows stretch a little too long around him. sometimes the lights flicker a bit when he walks into a room.

when he gets stressed the temperature drops a few degrees. his skin is too cold to be normal. his teeth are a little too sharp. he seems to breathe a little off, like he's faking it.

everyone brushes it off because they think it's him being the weird kid. it's totally normal for the hair on the back of your neck to stand up when he walks past. it's totally normal to feel that sort of drop in your stomach when he looks right at you. i mean, he's just a normal teenage boy. right?

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp #this is my Creepy Danny Propoganda #he deserves to be a little unnerving #as a treat

[starwrighter]

The blurb I promised

@nerdpoe for your prompt about Vlad being a creep and giving Pedophile Vibes :3

This "Danny" was not Vlad Master's kid, Bruce knew this for a fact. Yet, for the past month all Vladimir would talk about was him. Bruce loved his kids to the moon and back he loved to talk about them, he loved talking with other parents too but the way Masters talked about this boy was... Odd, not the way a parent should talk about their child.

The silver haired man didn't simply talk about Danny he raved for as long as you would allow him to go on. Something about way he smiled while he went on a possessive rant over a child make Bruce's stomach churn. A gut feeling that there was something much more sinister going on here. If all his years have taught him anything it was that you trust your gut.

Bruce needed answers and he was going to get them. So no matter how sick to his stomach the way Vlad licked his lips while talking about talking about how the boy "took after his mother," Bruce kept him talking, gaining trust,. Eventually Vlad started to relax, leaning into the more obsessive side of his rant. He talked about "Getting his hands on the stubborn boy," and " Convincing his little badger that this was how things were meant to be," Bruce feared for this kid's safety Vlad clearly had enough access to speak with the kid and that was clearly to much freedom for the predatory billionaire.

Vladimir would complain about "Daniel's bumbling idiot of a biological Father who was keeping them from being the perfect family,"

Honestly Bruce should have snapped earlier but there specific event that pushed him over the edge. He'd invited Masters over for a chat about parenting techniques. Not even two minutes after he entered the Manor, Vladimir had and started his usual disgusting rant about Daniel and Bruce tolerated it. At least he did tolerate it until he admitted to hurting Danny, insisting it was "out of love" and "For the sake of progress"

Bruce saw red, he lunged. It wasn't until his children were prying his hands hands off Vlad's neck that he managed to calm down. He couldn't imagine looking at his children the way Masters did the thought of hurting them in the ways that Vladimir described what he did to Danny made bile creep up his throat...

He needed to find Daniel Fenton, he was obviously in danger and needed to be protected.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #dpxdc #Vlad tucked his tail between his legs and ran like a coward after Bruce attacked him #The sheer paternal rage of Bruce scared the fear of god into Vlad #Vlad is creepy

[deadsetobsessions]

Between the whole “clone trying to kill her original version” thing and the whole “trying to find herself after being freed from the millionaire fruit loop halfa” thing, Danielle “Ellie” Phantom figured that she’d fit right in with Gotham.

They’ve got shades, a concerning amount of undead, and the people there seem to have traumatic backstories galore. Perfect.

Danny might die again if she told him where she’s staying, though. So she won’t tell him!

Ellie touched down in an alley near the first bus stop into Gotham, returning to the visible spectrum and returning her intangibility. She wanted to explore everything, and where better to start than the entrance of Gotham?

She slips out of the alley, walking past the terrified looking tourists. Ellie ignores the smell of soot they gave off, attributing correctly that it came from the explosion she heard before she approached Gotham. The city, like any other major city, was littered with trash and odd bits of metal. There’s graffiti too, but less so than the sunnier cities. The clouds- and smog, because Ellie could smell it miles away from the city- that obscured the sky left the city in a chilling atmosphere. Hazy. Like, a graveyard at dawn. Perfect for someone like Ellie.

It’s so different from Amity, stone where she dreaded plaster, gloom and doom where she dreaded seeing sunshine she couldn’t reach. 

Ellie wandered, under bridges, and in between paths. She danced through shootouts, glides past brawls, laughs when pick pockets find their hands empty after bumping into her.

She gets a coffee and one of those delicious lemon bars, with Vlad’s money. Hers, now that Tucker’s gotten his hands on Vlad’s inner systems. The barista gives her a suspicious look, but she brings out her strongest midwestern accent and the look melts into exasperation. And pity, but Ellie doesn’t really care about that. She “ooh’s and ahh’s” at the grimy stone, the gothic inspired architecture that Sam would kill to experience, goggles at the boarded up buildings. There’s a cathedral or two or five, she doesn’t remember, but the pretty glass seems to be broken at most of them. She wonders what happened. Then she remembers that there are vigilantes here, and concludes that she has to remember to look up more often. A giant clock-tower. A district with less people and fancier homes. A university! She might apply after she’s done traveling around and have gotten her GED.

Her shoes pound the pavement, something about the effort it takes to take a step burns in her soul. Yes, this is what it means to be free. She kicks the knees of two would be robbers in as she passes them on her way to purchasing three bars of the best chocolates she’s had in her short existence.

The cashier looks at her like she’s odd. Oh, well.

And then night falls. Ancients, does the city truly come alive. There are screams and sirens and surges in ectoplasm that balances her essence of being out. Ellie, with a new pep in her step, follows the trail of ectoplasm right into an area called “Crime Alley.”

“It feels almost like… a haunt…?”

Ellie hums and keeps walking. Maybe this is the territory of one of the undead Gothamites…?

She’s got a bit of Danny’s saving people thing after all, because the three bars of candy on her is gone in minutes to children with hollow cheek and dead eyes. 



Ellie startles backwards as a body slams onto the pavement in front of her, barely missing the risen steps of the building they were in front of.

“Oh.” She says. Because this is one of the Undead. And he’s Red Hood. Danny is going to flip.

“Run- run, kid.”

Ellie tilts her head. “And why would I do that?”

“You’re gonna get hurt, brat!” The man barks, and winces as his ribs shuttered. The red helmet’s tinny voice doesn’t intimidate her nor does it hide the concern and fear bleeding into the guy’s body language.

“Not really?”

And with that, Ellie slams her elbow into Goon 1, knocking him straight into another building. Goon 2 tries to grab her and she phases out of his reach, floating upwards and slamming her fist into his face. He joins Goon 1 in decorating that building’s new mural, called the two dumbasses that picked a fight with a wandering Ellie.

Hood watches her, cradling his ribs.

“You a meta?” He grumbled at her, wheezing as she crouched down and poked his sides. He smacks her hand away.

Ellie, who has clearly spent too much time near Danny, replies, “Being dead is a medical condition.” without missing a single beat.

Hood, on the other hand, misses several beats.

“What?”

Ellie barrels on, amused at his fumble. “Did you know you died?”

Hood looks at her and Ellie swears she can see the dumbfounded expression.

Ellie laughs, free and sharp. Yes, Gotham is nothing like Amity.

#Gotham #Gothamites meeting Ellie and going this kid is gonna die #(fondly) #Ellie: you can not kill me in any way that matters #Ellie: I’m gonna do all the dangerous stuff #red hood #Jason told #creepy danielle lol #dc x dp #dpxdc #danielle phantom #ellie phantom #Ellie thinks beating people up is part of the tourist experience

[rosydraws1]

phantom of the opera

phantom: come to me my angel of music.

Christine: no

phantom: what

Christine: do I know you no do I trust you no are you a creepy old man yes are you very creepy by making a model of me in a wedding dress so no I wont come to you and I'm calling the police as I should

phantom: wait police no no no

Christine: see you in jail

#creepy phantom

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Survive the Dorms

~

Danny can now easily say that college sucks.

He's getting less sleep than when he first started being a hero back home.

His roommate was straight out from the horror stories you would hear about roommates. He was hoping to switching rooms after the year was over, but that was still so far away.

Danny was falling asleep whenever and wherever he could.

His lack of sleep mixed in with his stress about school started to show some of his ghostly side while he was out of it.

Sleepwalking would be normal for anyone, but Danny was far from normal, he would go invisible and intangible, some people even managed to get video of it, if a very distorted version no mater how hard they tried.

Sleep talking as well, which would scare the hairs off anyone who would listen. Humans weren't meant to hear ghost speak after all.

Somehow people never could figure out it was Danny,

And Danny,

Danny had no clue he was the reason people thought that the dorms and school were haunted.

~

Danny getting the best sleep he has had in weeks: *yawn* "I need to do that more often"

The Dorm: "Salt I need more saLT!!"

TD: "I'm still alive!"

~

TD: "I was so freaked out last night! Did you see how it moved?"

Danny oblivious thinking their talking about a new horror movie

~

Danny's Roommate holding a cross he got from the Dollar General

Danny floating in the air above his bed, sleep talking about his homework in Ghost Speak

DR: "Fuck this, I'm dropping out!"

~

Danny looking at his classmates being Stressed TM: " Ah yes normal collage things!"

TD every night:

~

Just an Idea

#dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #batman #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #dp #dc x dp prompt #story prompt #prompts #writing prompt #scary danny phantom #creepy danny